Distant Storm
by Ally5
Summary: Lindsay confronts her feelings about her parent's divorce


TITLE: Distant Storm  
  
AUTHOR: Ally (allys_fanfic@yahoo.com)  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi I usually post on another mailing list (groups.yahoo.com/group/thepracticefanfiction) but I figured I'd post this here. This story is about Lindsay and Bobby overcoming Lindsay's feelings of her parent's divorce. Hope you enjoy it, feedback is always welcomed.  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters belong to DEK and The Practice. I make no profit.  
  
WARNING: Feeble attempt at a sex scene. Youngsters beware.  
  
**************************  
  
The trees on the cliff edge twisted and swayed; branches and leaves roaring in the wind as the bright orb in the sky mellowed into lustrous orange. Clouds flew along jet streams above radiating brilliant pinks and golds, defiantly ignoring the forewarning angry purple in the distance.  
  
A girl doggedly walked against the wind on the water's edge, bearing the full brunt against her body. She barely noticed the leaves and debris flying around, pinging against her face like angry hornets. She carried her shoes in hand as her bares toes sunk into the sand, still luxuriously warm from the day's heat.  
  
"Lindsay!"  
  
The girl looked up, a lock of brown hair falling over her blue eyes. She brushed it out of the way, frustrated. Yes she had heard something above the wind but as her eyes scanned the beach in front of her, she saw nothing to account for the sound. It was the wind playing tricks on her, she decided. She dropped her gaze back to the sand below her, blue eyes determinedly seeking seashells to take home. She had quite a collection sitting at home already, shells of mesmerizing pinks and the palest creams, shells of all shapes and colors, the most unusual taking pride of place in her bedroom.  
  
A couple walked past her in the opposite direction, the woman's haste communicated with her grim face and stilted gait in the soft sand. Lindsay watched them curiously. The man had his arm slung casually around the woman's waist, his love natural and palpable, but currently being ignored.  
  
He looked at Lindsay and silently pointed to the woman, "Bad mood," he mouthed.  
  
Lindsay giggled.  
  
He cleared his throat, "It's going to be a big storm, you'd better go home sweetie."  
  
Lindsay looked to the sky for the first time. The iridescent glow of earlier had seeped from the sky as though the bruised purple towering cumulus clouds had bullied it away. With her eyes raised to the sky she could almost make out her father's face in the clouds. She looked back to the ground.  
  
"Lindsay!"  
  
Yes. She had heard it again. She stooped to pick up a shell whose edge had been peeking through the sand. She brushed it off with her fingertips and examined it closely. Her last shell of the summer would get special recognition. She dug into her pocket and pulled out the handkerchief her mother always made her carry with her. She wrapped the shell in it with great care and placed the treasure in her pocket before turning to face her interruption.  
  
"Linds, Mom says we have to go."  
  
Wordlessly she turned on her heel and headed towards home. He jogged to catch up with her.  
  
"What's with you today?" he asked curiously.  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"You've been acting-"  
  
Her face was flustered and her eyes flashed angrily. "BEN! I'm fine! Leave me alone."  
  
He studied her face for a second. Born four years before her, he had naturally slipped into the role as her protector. Nothing escaped his attention. At sixteen he felt like he was getting too old for family vacations to the cottage but dared not leave Lindsay alone for months on end with their parents. So he endured the jokes at school about being a momma's boy and continued to shield Lindsay from the reality of their parents' marriage.  
  
He gave her a friendly punch in the arm, "Race you to the cottage." He sprinted for a few strides before stopping abruptly. She had not followed.  
  
"Linds." he complained.  
  
"Go away."  
  
Lightning lit up her face in the growing darkness. It showed something that he hadn't seen before.  
  
Fear.  
  
"Linds?"  
  
"GO AWAY!!" she yelled, pushing him away from her.  
  
His ego bruised he walked two strides behind her back to the cottage, following her through the prim front garden with its precise picket fence and soundless gate. As they approached the front door they could hear shouting. Ben turned to her looking older than his years, eyes awash with concern.  
  
Rather than going inside to face her demons Lindsay perched on the loveseat that adorned the front porch. Ben sat next to her and with a push from his legs, sent the swing into a sweeping arc.  
  
He had an optimistic and frustratingly laid back attitude to life, an attitude that completely contrasted Lindsay's own fiercely competitive nature. The fighting concerned him but he accepted it and moved on with life. He didn't know what to say. "They always fight kiddo, it doesn't mean anything."  
  
Lindsay stared out across the thin strip of dull sand and angry surf to the horizon; her lips were drawn in a stubborn line. Finally she turned to face him, eyes downcast in an attempt to protect her true feelings from him.  
  
"They've been worse today," she whispered.  
  
He had noticed too.  
  
"It's probably the weather," he offered lamely, putting his hands out, palm turned up as though feeling for rain. He could feel the electricity in the air.  
  
"The weather?" Lindsay asked; an eyebrow rose disdainfully.  
  
"Or something in the water," he decided.  
  
Lindsay offered a small smile, "Maybe it was the seafood we ate last night. Something that tasted so good must be evil."  
  
He grinned, "Or maybe it was the washing powder that Mrs. Phillipe washes our clothes in. That stuff makes me itch."  
  
She giggled. "Maybe aliens abducted them overnight."  
  
"Yeah anal probing wouldn't be fun," he sniggered.  
  
Lindsay screwed up her nose, "Eeeeewww Ben! That's gross."  
  
"But it would explain the fighting," he explained.  
  
Her eyes turned downwards again, "Yeah."  
  
Their father stormed out onto the porch, a halo of anger pulsating around him. Lindsay shrunk back against the swing. "You kids ready to go?" he asked coldly.  
  
They nodded.  
  
He grasped Lindsay's wrist and roughly pulled her off the loveseat, "Get in the car then! We're going!" As he jerked her up something fell with a clatter to the floor. She turned to see what had fallen but her father jerked on her arm once more and led her down to the car.  
  
"Wait Dad!" She had struggled against his grip.  
  
"Lindsay we have to go!"  
  
"But I dropped-"  
  
"You can get it next summer."  
  
"Dad!" she cried desperately, but he pretended not to hear her.  
  
Lindsay's mother appeared. She had reapplied her mascara and lipstick, but the signs of anguish were obvious in her puffy eyes and blotched skin. Lindsay opened the car door and sat in the backseat, eyes turned back to the porch where her handkerchief trembled under the force of the wind. It wouldn't be there when they returned next summer. She wiped her eyes on the hem of her t-shirt and raised her eyes to the towering cliffs, following the caterpillar-like line of trees. She and Ben had explored up there early in the summer, hunting for bird nests and other unusual things. He had told her an elaborate story about wolves who ate tourists and she had helped him search for bones for hours while he silently laughed at her.  
  
The front doors opened and the car started loudly, the revving engine sounded like accusations. The front window was rolled down and a frustrated shout blasted from within, "BEN! We're going!"  
  
Ben hurried through the gate and into the car. He slipped into the seat next to Lindsay and they rolled down the narrow road towards the centre of town. Lindsay stubbornly kept her eyes turned forwards, refusing to give the beloved cottage a last goodbye wave. They were halfway home, stony silence echoing in the metallic walls of the car when she felt something drop onto her lap. She stared at it for a few seconds before turning with wide eyes to her brother.  
  
He smiled knowingly. "I can't let you go home without the last shell of the summer."  
  
***  
  
Lindsay got out of the car and stretched. The cottage was rundown now, the picket fence was peeling and no longer exact in its dimensions. The gate screeched on its rusty hinges as they pushed through it.  
  
"Wow this looks great," Bobby prattled as he carried the bags to the front door, turning the lock with force.  
  
"Yeah," she agreed.  
  
He glanced at her, "Don't sound so enthusiastic."  
  
She smiled ruefully, "Sorry."  
  
"You were so quiet over the last few miles...everything okay?"  
  
She pasted a smile on her face, "I'm fine Bobby. What could be wrong? You're having your first vacation in decades and I'm here to share it with you. I couldn't be more okay."  
  
"Overkill Lindsay."  
  
"What?"  
  
"When you lie you try too hard. Overkill. A simple 'I'm fine' would have sufficed."  
  
She repressed the urge to poke her tongue out at him. It must be the influence of her childhood memories coming flooding back as though offered by the sea as the tide came in.  
  
Just inside the front door, blocking the entrance hall, the familiar love seat greeted them through plastic covers. "Now this is what I came here for," Bobby announced, tearing the sheet off the seat and pulling his new wife down onto it with him. He kicked off to swing it gently but it thudded against the wall behind.  
  
"Bobby not inside," she pushed herself off it and walked deeper into the house, eyes roaming the familiar rooms, memories greeting her like old friends. Bobby remained seated for a few minutes, a puzzled frown marring his face. She had been acting strangely ever since her father had offered the cottage to them for a couple of weeks that summer. He had jumped at the opportunity to spend a spur of the moment honeymoon with Lindsay, but she had been more reserved. He rose from the chair and padded quietly through the cottage scanning each room for Lindsay before moving on. He found her in a small bedroom, pink walls splotched with mould. She turned at his footsteps and smiled, "I don't think we'll fit on this bed." She pointed to the small single bed.  
  
Bobby laughed too loudly, trying to cover up his concern for her, "No I don't think so." He looked around the room curiously. "I can just see little Lindsay playing in here," He said fondly.  
  
She shook her head, hair whipping around her face, "No I only came in here to sleep at night or when it was raining. I lived outside all summer."  
  
She smiled once more before sliding past him and down the hall. She stopped again outside another bedroom, this time no grin erupted from her face. He stopped behind her and looked over her head into the master bedroom.  
  
"Now this bed looks more our size," he announced, stepping past her and sitting on the bed. Giving a little bounce and listening to the complaining shriek of rusty springs with a grin on his face. "Just like home."  
  
She remained in the doorway.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
"Greg!" her mother had wailed.  
  
Her father's voice had been cold. It sent shivers down Lindsay's spine, "You slept with him didn't you Diane?"  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
"Linds?"  
  
He was next to her. She felt his hand slip around her waist, his lips on her bare shoulder.  
  
She shook herself, "Yeah."  
  
He watched her for a second, "We don't have to sleep in here if you don't want to."  
  
"I want to...it's just...it's my parent's room."  
  
He didn't understand her hesitation. "We've got fresh sheets."  
  
She laughed involuntarily, a harsh laugh that sliced through the peaceful afternoon air. "You can't cover memories with sheets."  
  
He frowned, confused.  
  
"The last time we came here was when I was twelve," she confided, walking down the hallway and into the large open kitchen. She began to unpack the food they had brought. "When we got home that August they filed for divorce."  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
"You slept with him didn't you Diane?"  
  
"No! I would never cheat on you! I swear..." her mother sobbed.  
  
"I am sick of listening to your lies. I can't bear to look at you." He turned on his heel. "We're  
  
leaving this afternoon." He announced over his shoulder.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Bobby helped her unpack the bags, silently urging her to continue.  
  
"They pretended the whole summer that nothing was wrong. But on our last day I went to their bedroom to ask something." She shrugged. "I can't remember what. I saw them fighting. He was accusing her of cheating on him. They acted as though they hated each other. I never realized..."  
  
"They were protecting you."  
  
"I know."  
  
He thought for a second, "We didn't have to come here if it brings back bad memories."  
  
"I needed to come here Bobby." She replied earnestly. "And it's not just bad memories. I had some of the best summers of my life here." She took his hand and dragged him out the door. She paused on the front porch, staring out to the sea. "It's so beautiful. We used to sit out here at nights. Ben and I would play board games and he'd tell me scary stories. Sometimes Mom and Dad would let us sleep out under the stars."  
  
She bounded down the steps, pulling Bobby out the gate and down to the beach. Family groups were scattered along the strip of sand; large balls, towels, sandcastles and umbrellas dotting the landscape.  
  
"My best summer friend was a boy called Jeremy. We used to do everything together. When I was eleven he tried to kiss me. Ben saw him try and beat him up."  
  
"I want to meet this Jeremy," Bobby was suitably furious. "How dare he try to kiss you!"  
  
Her eyes sparkled, "I liked it. Ben just overreacted." She grinned suddenly, the pensive lines of the last few hours replaced with lines of laughter around her eyes. "You should be glad that he didn't try to hit you when you met."  
  
Bobby laughed. "I'm bigger than him. I could have taken him on."  
  
She flashed him a doubtful stare.  
  
"I could have!" he insisted.  
  
"Sure."  
  
She led him further down the beach, pointing up to the line of trees still swaying along the cliff. "Up there we found human bones. Wolves killed them."  
  
Bobby stared at the trees, his mouth a wide O. "You're kidding me."  
  
She laughed gaily. "Yes I am."  
  
He tackled her, pulling her into the deliciously warm sand, and covered her face in kisses. "Your punishment for lying is a night of getting laid," he was amused at his own wit.  
  
"That doesn't sound like punishment at all," she replied, her face awash with desire. She rolled him off her and brushed the sand from her hair. Only to shriek as wet sand trickled down her back, "Bobby you creep!"  
  
She pushed him into the sand and straddled his legs, pinning him beneath her while he laughed, enjoying it. She was about to announce his punishment when she caught sight of something out of the corner of her eye. A family group sat underneath a blue striped umbrella, just yards away, watching them with shocked expressions. Lindsay felt her face go red and stood with as much composure as she could muster. Bobby stared at her for a second before following her gaze. He too quickly stood and with his arm around her waist they walked away, shoulders shaking with laughter.  
  
Finally she led him to the base of the cliffs where she pointed out a small crevice. "I used to hide in there sometimes when I wanted to be alone. Nobody ever knew I came here."  
  
Bobby could almost see a young Lindsay sitting in the small space, staring out to sea, all the problems of the world on her shoulders as analytical eyes attempted to solve them.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
"I am sick of listening to your lies. I can't bear to look at you." Greg turned on his heel. "We're leaving this afternoon." He announced over his shoulder.  
  
Lindsay ran swiftly down the hall and out onto the beach, she ran as far away from the cottage as she could, ignoring the crowds of people still enjoying the weak late-summer sun. She ran to her secret hideout and sat there crying until the sun began to drop in the sky and chill seeped through her clothes.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Lindsay turned away beginning to make the slow journey back to the cottage. Bobby jogged to catch up and slipped his arm around her waist.  
  
She sighed, "After they divorced summers weren't any fun anymore. We came back here just once after that summer. Dad brought Ben and I back for a couple of weeks a few years later. It was painful. We left after four days."  
  
"You haven't been back since?"  
  
She shook her head. "But I'm glad I'm here with you. Maybe we can recreate some of the good times."  
  
"I can pretend to be Jeremy and try and kiss you," Bobby agreed.  
  
Lindsay laughed, taking his hand and feeling his love pulsate through his palm and into her own.  
  
They reached the cottage and she tugged on one side of the loveseat, "Help me carry this out."  
  
Bobby hefted up the other side and together they edged out of the cottage and onto the porch, dropping the loveseat down so it faced the ocean. Lindsay collapsed onto it gratefully. Bobby headed inside, "Wait here, I'll get us a drink."  
  
Lindsay watched the ocean, mesmerized by its reliability, creeping up and down the beach without fail. Children shrieked in the surf while older kids bravely waded further out. She sighed, content. Music burst out of the house and she turned her ears towards it. Bobby must have found the stereo. "Love Me Do" was played cheerfully and she dragged herself out of the chair to seek out her husband.  
  
He was in the kitchen uncorking a bottle of red wine. He heard her footsteps, "The music selection wasn't that great."  
  
"I love The Beatles," she stood on tiptoes and kissed him softly. She looked up into his eyes, finding herself getting lost in the deep wells of blue. "I love you," she whispered, leaning forward for another kiss, tasting his lunch. Her hands crept up around his neck and his pulled her hips closer. They kissed again, this time with more urgency. Wine was forgotten as he lifted her onto the counter, and with her knees on either side of his hips, his lips made trails down her neck to her collarbone and to the neckline of her singlet, as a hand with long, sensuous fingers simultaneously ran up beneath the thin material. She sighed, pleasure racing through her like currents. He lifted her top and she raised her arms obediently. Once free of the material her own hands busied themselves with his t-shirt until bare skin finally made contact. Heart rates increased and temperatures rose. Her hands left his hair and eagerly ran down his taut stomach to the waistband of his jeans. She ached for him. Breathing heavily Bobby pulled back, "Not here."  
  
She looked around at the smooth hard surfaces and wondered why not? Kitchens certainly weren't new to them. Nor were bathrooms, living rooms and offices. With her knees hooked over his hips he lifted her from the counter and carried her into the bedroom, the journey slowed by moments of blindness as lips met fervently. He lay her on the bare mattress of the large bed and Lindsay felt colour drain from her face. "Here?" she whispered.  
  
He lay next to her, wiping sweaty tendrils from her forehead and tracing around her eyes with his index finger. She was so beautiful. Lines creased her face as she eyed the room. "This room has bad memories," she finally admitted.  
  
He placed a finger over her lips to hush her. "Let's get you some better ones then."  
  
With a sly smile he removed every last piece of clothing that separated their feverish bodies, tantalizing her with light kisses and a hand that refused to go where she desired it. "Bo..." her voice would not obey her commands as she moaned beneath his touch. Delighted that he could reduce her to a trembling wreck with his hands, he finally obeyed her pleading eyes. The aching was ecstatically relieved as she guided him. Joined in love, bodies, hearts and minds rejoiced.  
  
"I love you," she whispered as they lay side by side afterwards. The sweet smell of sweat and sex tickled her nose as she rested her head against her favourite pillow, his chest. His hand absentmindedly ran along her back, tracing down and up again, sending delicious shivers along her spine. She dropped a kiss onto his chest before collapsing backwards so that she lay facing the ceiling. She eyed the room with a faint smile.  
  
"I definitely prefer these new memories."  
  
***  
  
Lindsay unpacked their bags while Bobby slept, sprawled out on his stomach with legs and arms pointing to each corner. It was late afternoon now and as the heat seeped from the air so did the families on the beach. By the time the sun's white light had become an iridescent orange, the sand had the lapping waves to itself. In the dim light Lindsay watched Bobby, her mind plagued with haunting images of the past.  
  
She replayed her parents' conversation that she had overheard on that awful summer and the moments months later where the seemingly perfect marriage unraveled into nothing but bitterness. She replaced the anguished moments with memories of her own wedding just a month earlier. She had never experienced such happiness as she had that night, but there had been times since then where she lay awake in the early hours of the morning worrying that her blissful marriage could just as easily shatter into broken dreams. Bobby promised her repeatedly that it would never happen and she believed him. When Bobby loved somebody he gave his whole heart and loved with a passion more fierce than she had ever experienced. Her love for him was just as intense. Surely two people who loved so powerfully would not be torn apart. To do that she had to believe in herself. Believe that she could weather all the storms that a marriage whipped up.  
  
Bobby stirred and Lindsay was pulled back into reality. Light was beginning to fade and she rose from her perch on the old overstuffed armchair and crouched to open her overnight bag. From a zippered compartment Lindsay removed a small object and slid it into her pocket.  
  
***  
  
Bobby walked out onto the porch later that evening, eyes turned up to the clouds that blotted out the bright stars. "Looks like a storm."  
  
Lindsay, who was seated pensively on the loveseat, looked up at the sky and seemed almost surprised by the change in weather. Her fingers continued to move restlessly over something in her hand.  
  
Bobby sat down and watched her for a few seconds before reaching over and touching her cheek lovingly.  
  
"You okay?"  
  
She turned to him. Instead of melancholy he found serenity in her deep blue eyes. She nodded. "Yes." A small smile broke her face and it grew larger and larger.  
  
She leaned over and kissed him with a smack on the lips.  
  
"Yes. I am." And she laughed with a lightness that he had never heard in her voice before. "I'm better than okay, actually."  
  
His mind whirred. Had he sent her crazy? No her laugh wasn't manic. It was as though he was hearing it for the first time. He could tell that she had overcome something that had been troubling her for a long time.  
  
She saw his puzzlement and took his hand. She laid it flat with palm facing upwards and placed in it a pale pink shell. He looked at her wondering whether he was supposed to thank her for this unusual gift.  
  
"What's this?" he asked.  
  
"A shell."  
  
"I can see that."  
  
"Come with me."  
  
He followed her down the beach as the wind and surf reached a crescendo of noise. The wild evening had forced the last romantic couples to seek comfort indoors but Lindsay stood in the open, arms out wide, embracing the electricity in the air.  
  
"I love storms," she yelled above the noise as he joined her on the sand. "The sheer power and energy of nature is so inspiring, it makes me want to achieve more, to attain a fraction of its energy." She smiled briefly, eyes sparkling not from an outer source of light but from within. Bobby watched her with affection. Although they had been friends and lovers for years there was still so much about her he didn't know. Each new revelation was like unwrapping a desired gift. It awakened jubilation within him at the thought there might be more undiscovered treasures.  
  
Lindsay removed her shoes and carrying them in her hand led him back down the beach to the crevice in the cliffs. She stood staring at it for a moment before taking the shell from his hand and placing it carefully on a little ledge formed in the wall. It was time to release the sad memories and embrace the future and all it had to offer.  
  
Bobby watched silently as she rose from her stooped position to meet him, expression neutral. "That shell," she said finally. "I used to think of it as the symbol of the end of my life."  
  
She paused to carefully select the right words. "I now know that you are the symbol that tells me I am only at the beginning of my life."  
  
"Our life," he corrected.  
  
She stopped to face him and wrapped her arms around his broad body. Ignoring the rain that began to fall in enormous drops, they kissed, lips meeting again and again, each kiss hungrier than the last.  
  
Out of breath she pulled back, their clothes were clinging to their bodies and hair was plastered against their heads in the downpour.  
  
"Yes. Our life." She repeated.  
  
And they hugged. Two figures merging into one; defiantly presenting a united front against the fierce storm.  
  
************  
  
The end 


End file.
